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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24353809">You'd Better Come In</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse'>Ghostinthehouse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Demon and Angel Professors [86]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:07:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24353809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Quiet footsteps came up the corridor and stopped by the door beside her. "You're early," said Dr Crowley, as if she had an appointment, and was entirely expected.</p><p>One-shot</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Demon and Angel Professors [86]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Aspec-friendly Good Omens</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You'd Better Come In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">It wasn't office hours, but that was fine. It was still a dead-end corridor with no classrooms on it, which, since she lived off-site, made it as quiet and private as she was likely to find on campus short of locking herself into a bathroom cubicle. The bathrooms had too many mirrors anyway.</p><p class="western">Lucille folded herself down onto the floor with her back to the wall, buried her face in her drawn up knees, and focused on keeping her breathing slow and steady and even. She was <em>not </em>going to cry over silly casual comments, any more than she was going to scream.</p><p class="western">Quiet footsteps came up the corridor and stopped by the door beside her. "You're early," said Dr Crowley, as if she had an appointment, and was entirely expected.</p><p class="western">She looked up then, dry-eyed, to see him leaning against the doorframe, key in hand as he unlocked the door itself.</p><p class="western">He looked back, for a moment the wry, mild man she'd mistaken for Dr Fell. "Well. Can't stand here all day. You'd best come in, the place will be busy shortly."</p><p class="western">Lucille climbed slowly to her feet and trailed after him. "It's nothing really."</p><p class="western">He lowered himself into the chair behind his desk. "Sure, it is, and you're just hiding in a corner for fun."</p><p class="western">"No, I mean, it wasn't anything they said, it was just..." It was the way they'd talked, as if being attractive was more important than anything else. And the way they'd all carefully not looked at her scarred face. She hunched down on the bench against the wall. "You wouldn't get it. You can choose not to be visibly different. I... can't."</p><p class="western">He raised an eyebrow above his dark glasses, and the corner of his mouth twitched downwards. "You think so?"</p><p class="western">She looked him over and found nothing except good looks.</p><p class="western">He took a slow, steady, even breath, then another, and she saw him visibly brace himself. He lifted a hand to his glasses and slid them down his nose. "Look again."</p><p class="western">She flinched in instinctive startlement at the sight of his eyes. His pupils, she decided, were like skinny insects trapped in amber irises. They looked like a cat...or a snake. (When she looked it up later, Google told her that the eye condition that most often produced slit pupiled eyes was called coloboma and they were often light sensitive. That explained the dark glasses too.)</p><p class="western">His jaw tightened the moment she flinched and he shoved the glasses back into place.</p><p class="western">"Sorry," she mumbled. "Just startled, not...anything else."</p><p class="western">Something of the tension left him, and he made some wordless sound in the back of his throat.</p><p class="western">"I don't want to have to hide it," she muttered miserably. "I just want to be <em>me</em>." What she craved was to be accepted just as she was, but there was no point dwelling on impossible dreams.</p><p class="western">He nodded, as if he understood. Maybe he even did. "Usually, it's queer kids that need to hear this, but," he stretched out long legs, shifting a little in his seat, "hiding some part of you from others doesn't make you any less <em>you</em>. It's all still there underneath. It's different in degree from choosing the right clothes for the right task, but the same principle. Might not be comfortable - the shoes pinch, the sleeves catch on things, the mask makes it harder to breathe or notice things - but necessary at times."</p><p class="western">"I wish it wasn't."</p><p class="western">"So do many other people. But you can step up beside them, put your shoulder to the wheel of change and push. It's slow, hard, heavy work, but things can change. The world does change, but it takes a lot of people pushing together to get it moving in the right direction. And it's usually uphill. Both ways." He flicked the tiniest of smiles at her.</p><p class="western">Lucille couldn't help but smile back. Only later, after she'd left, did she realise he'd given exactly the acceptance she'd craved.</p>
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